Since we got to this sunny land there have been many conversations about fruit picking: whether to hit the fields to extend our visas for an extra year, whether it’s worth the pain and poor pay, where to go to find a farmer who’ll sign your visa documentation off for a small fee (without having to set foot in an orchard) and, finally, why we decided (for now, anyway) not to bother with manual labour.
You know when you've been Tangoed
So it was a surprise to me when, today, I got a taster of the life I could be living… Yup, there’s a mini orchard outside work, owned by the gym next door. All the trees are bowing under the weight of fresh oranges, and we’ve been invited to take as many of the organic treats as we wish! You don’t have to offer a backpacker free things twice. After the effort it took to get those golden globes down from the heady heights of the trees – think four girls, one battling a branch, another pulling the leaves out of the way, the third shouting directions to ‘twist and pull! twist and pull!’, while the fourth almost fell on the floor laughing – those oranges tasted all the sweeter!
It hasn’t changed my mind about Fruit Picking: The Extended Version, though. It took long enough to prise three zesty spheres from the grips of a not-very-tall tree. I don’t rate my chances of ever getting paid on a farm – I’d never manage to fill a glass with juice, let alone a basket with fruit…
Alannafreestyle 